


Soft Heat

by FreyReh



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Canarywave, F/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 02:28:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7023076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreyReh/pseuds/FreyReh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>i was given a prompt for sara/mick. here is the result. post-Destiny</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soft Heat

dis: i don’t own lot  
pairing: canarywave

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The last mission had been a rough one. Sara’s body was sore and tense. She had a blossoming bruise on her jaw from a lucky shot someone managed against her. She’d been distracted. So soon after Leonard’s death, they’d almost lost Jefferson. He was recovering in Med Bay but Sara had a fleeting moment of thinking:

_‘Not again.’_

She rubbed a tired hand over her face, wincing when she hit the tender spot, then cursed before bending to look at the cubby under her bed. Leonard showing her that little escape route had her searching for her own when rejoining the team. Under her bed she kept the random things she’s found or stolen… Including liquor. Tucked in with it was the pack of cards her and Leonard had played with and she pulled them out now, fingertips almost lovingly caressing them before grabbing her bottle. She climbed up on her bed, laying out the cards for a game of _Solitaire_ when there was a chime at her door. 

“Open the door, Gideon,” said Sara and it opened then closed behind Mick Rory. 

“Hey,” she said, nodding at him, pulling strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. 

“I see you have the same idea as me,” said Mick eyeing her bottle. 

“Yeah.” He eyed the cards and she bit her lip in contemplation before gathering them. “Wanna play?”

“Don’t know that many games. Cards were more Snart’s thing.”

“I know,” she said, arranging the cards. “These were his.”

“You two played a lot, huh,” he said, leaning against the bed in the same way Leonard would sometimes. 

She smiled sadly. “Yeah.”

“Know Crazy Eight’s?” Sara shook her head no. “I’ll show ya. It’s the one game my mom taught me that I remembered.”

“Okay.” She handed him the deck. “Show me.”

He fumbled with the cards for a moment, the leather of his gloves making them slide out of his grasp. He noticed her staring and immediately became defensive. “What?”

“You can take them off, you know,” said Sara. “You don’t need to wear them around me.”

“Old habit,” he said, hesitating for a moment before pulling them off. She didn’t even look at the small scarring on his hands as he started shuffling the cards. “So, here are the rules.”

Soon they were both sitting up on the bed, across from each other and playing different games. They never played gin and Sara never really offered. It had been her and Leonard’s game. Instead he showed her Crazy Eight’s and she showed him how to play Omaha. After a while he’d taken off his jacket and tossed it to the floor with his boots. Both of them continued to drink heavily. Sara had a light buzz going. Mick was just about fully drunk. He took a pull form his bottle and she scoffed as he spilled a little on her sheets. 

“Sorry,” he said, blotting the wet spot with the sleeve of his thermal. 

“Man, Mick,” she whined, gathering the cards for the next game. 

  
“Said I was sorry,” he muttered, thumb circling the opening of the bottle.

“I know.” Sara drank more of her drink. “I think I’m done playing cards.”

“Okay…” 

He sounded disappointed and so she reached forward to put her hand over his. His hand felt rough and smooth at the same time, and her thumb slid over the skin at his wrist. 

“You don’t have to go. You wanna watch a movie or something?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

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“I don’t get it,” he mumbled, making her look over at him as he pointed to the screen. “I mean. She chose the guy over money.”

“Love makes you do stupid things,” said Sara. 

“It really does,” he said before pointing a finger at her. “Don’t tell no one I watched this chick-flick.”

“I’d _never_ ,” said Sara with a grin. “Wanna get some of your manliness back and watch some _Lethal Weapon_?”

“Now yer talkin!”

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.

“I like you, Sara, you’re not like the others.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, looking down at him after propping her head in her hand. The movie was over and now all that was on the screen was the soft glow of the ocean, waves crashing against the beach. She was laying mostly on her stomach, legs bent at the knee with her feet slightly swaying back and forth in the air.

“There is still a bit of mistrust there,” he said, looking down at his hands, a darkness overtaking his features. “Because of Chronos. Because of the Pirates. Because of Snart not being here to rein me in.”

“The team trusts you.”

“The team trusts _you_ to take care of me if I get out of hand. Maybe not Haircut. But Stein? He and the kid don’t trust me. Neither does Rip.”

“Screw them,” said Sara. “If that’s what they think.” He looked away and she reached up, the stubble of his cheek scratching the palm of her hand. “I trust you.”

He leaned up and pressed his lips to hers. He tasted of scotch and being this close she could faintly smell the sharp scent of lighter fluid and sandalwood. She pulled back, her large blue eyes searching his hardened brown. When she saw that slight crack in his expression, the cloud of doubt and regret she pressed her lips back against his. He groaned, pulling her against him as he settled back against her pillow. Her long legs moved to straddle him on her bed, lips pressing harder against him as her hands traveled up his chest. 

This wasn’t planned. 

This wasn’t something she’d wanted a few hours ago. 

But now she did, and with a slight rotation of her hips she could feel that he wanted this, too. She ran her hands up under his thermal and undershirt and felt the damaged skin he was so adamant about hiding. His skin felt hot against hers and her eyes fluttered closed as his hands traveled under her tank top to touch the skin of her stomach before cupping her bra-covered breasts. 

His hands went back down and in a move she had to admire she was suddenly on her back with his mouth at her neck while her legs wrapped around his waist. Her hands yanked up his shirts and he whipped them over his head before pressing his lips back to her neck. Her hands moved over the top of his head, down his neck, and over his strong back. Her fingertips memorized the feel of his skin, smooth in some parts and rough in most. She helped remove her tank top  and his face pressed to the tops of her breasts, inhaling deep before he fumbled with his belt. She slid down the leggings she’d been wearing and he groaned when seeing she wore no panties beneath. He lowered his zipper, the sound super-loud in her ears, as she opened her legs to him. He kissed her again, his large tongue invading her mouth and she moaned into the kiss, hips rising so that she could feel the tip of his penis against her. 

He kept his pants low on his hips, she didn’t bother with taking off her bra. She reached down between her legs to get a little wetter, working her clit while biting his lower lip. He thrust against her and she found his cock, thumb grazing over his enlarged head before guiding him to her. She tossed her head back as he slid into her, one hand at his shoulder and one on his ass with her nails digging into his skin. 

“ _Fuck_ you feel good,” he growled, slowly pumping his cock inside her. Each thrust he went deeper until he filled her and he groaned as he felt her pussy clench against him. “Hmm… Not gunna last long. Sorry, Birdie.”

“Just fuck me, Mick,” she ordered. 

He did as he was told. Moving his cock in her, making her trail her hand from his ass up to his back so that she could wrap her legs around him tighter. This was what she wanted. What she needed. Raw sex bordering on violence, her teeth pressing into the corded skin at his neck as his large hand wrapped her ponytail around it before pulling. She raked her nails down his sides, making him jump then punish her with a sharp thrust that had her losing her breath. He continued thrusting inside her, the wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of her pussy turning him on even more. His eyes zeroed in on her bouncing tits and he reached up and yanked a cup down, freeing a breast for him to latch his mouth onto, teeth grazing over a nipple. 

“Fuck,” she breathed, sliding a hand down to her clit, rubbing it harshly, her release coming at her like a tidal wave. “I’m gunna come, Mick. Fuck me harder.”

“Sara…” he sounded uncertain. He didn’t want to hurt her. 

“Do it,” she said through grit teeth, clenching her vaginal muscles, making him almost roar as he planted both hands on either side of her head and started fucking her like a possessed man. His eyes went from her tits up to her eyes and he saw a fire in there, a fire he was drawn to even more when she came with a lust-filled look in her eyes. He groaned as his orgasm hit, thrusting deep as he came inside her. Panted breath came out of her parted lips and he kissed her, pressing hard, making her lungs burn as she struggled to breathe through her nose. Soon, both fell, him collapsing on top of her. She didn’t mind his weight on her, hands soothing up and down his back as he regained his breath before flopping over onto his back. 

All he could manage was a groan and she nodded, looking over at him. His eyes were closed and his arm was thrown over his eyes. She wasn’t sure if he was going to stay or go. She wasn’t sure which she’d prefer. All she knew was that they’d made a mess of her sheets and his cum was still dripping out of her pussy, and she was too tired to care. So she just closed her eyes, and let the darkness swallow her whole. 

When she woke up, she was alone. She had a blanket tucked around her though, and she pulled it off before rising. She took a shower, scrubbing her body before heading to the Med Bay for the futuristic version of the Day-After pill and some pain-reliever for the ache between her legs. 

“If you’d like, Ms. Lance, I could inject you with a form of birth control that will last precisely 365 days,” said Gideon, the ever helpful A.I.

“Yeah,” she said, wanting to play it safe. Just in case. “Do it.”

She went to the kitchen next and slid into the spot next to Mick. He had his layers back on, from the thick jacket to the leather gloves. He had a plate of donuts in front of him and she plucked one off his plate. He didn’t say anything about it, just gave her a slight glare before a small smirk: a crack in the armor meant only for her eyes.  

“Morning, Sara.”

“Morning, Mick.”

**END**


End file.
